


Midnight Feeding

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Established Relationship, M/M, Male Lactation, Oral Sex, mpreg offscreen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 15:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4751753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Stiles are new parents and it's time to reconnect physically.</p><p>(See end notes if you're worried about being squicked.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Feeding

At the first little whine, at the first tiny cry, Peter’s out of bed and by the portable crib next to their bed. 

“Hush, baby, it’s okay. Don’t wake up Papa, he needs his sleep.”

The pile of blankets left on the bed says, “She’s probably hungry. Bring her here and I’ll try the feeding in bed thing again.”

“Okay, sorry, I was hoping she was wet and I could change her without waking you,” Peter says, carrying their one month old back to bed. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance; she’ll pee after she eats,” Stiles says, sitting up slightly and pulling his t-shirt up around his armpits. He nestles back into his pillow and positions his daughter next to him, moving around until she gets a nipple in her mouth and starts sucking, grunting quietly. 

“I wish I could do this for you, I hate that you have to wake up all the time,” Peter says, lying next to Amilia, gently rubbing her back.

“Well, I won’t be doing this much longer. Magic milk only lasts for so long. I’m afraid she’s not getting enough now,” Stiles says and gently rubs her cheek to wake her when she dozes off, so she can finish eating. 

Peter looks at his spouse, noting the slight look of sorrow on his face. “We can start her on formula, if you’re concerned.” 

“Yeah, makes sense, I guess I’ll just miss this. Even though I whine about it. But then you can do feeding duty, too.” Stiles says with a wan smile. “I think she’s nearly done, I swear she just wants to wake me up more than she wants food.”

“I doubt she’s thought it out that much,” Peter answers, taking her from Stiles and putting her back in her bed. She’s asleep and snoring quietly, not even waking when he changes her damp diaper. 

When he turns around, Stiles smiles and raises an eyebrow. “You do that well and you look pretty good doing it. My kid has a hot daddy.”

Peter kneels on the side of the bed, caressing Stiles’ throat around the loose neck of his t-shirt. “You’re looking lovely yourself, my dear.”

“Hmm.” Stiles tilts his head and Peter crawls forward to drag his lips across his mate’s neck, noting a slight scent of worry.

“What’s wrong, Stiles?” Peter asks, pulling back. “Are you hurting? Do you want me to stop?”

Stiles shrugs and turns his head away. “No. Unless you want to. Which I’d understand, I mean, I’m still so squishy from being pregnant and I have mushy little boobs and…”

Peter takes Stiles chin and gently turns him so they’re facing each other. He leans down, resting his forehead on his mate’s and whispers, “You are lovely. There is nothing about you that I do not love and that I do not find attractive and sexy. Do you need me to say that again?”

“Really? Well, if you want to say it again, I guess it’s okay with me.” Stiles has a small smile on his face when he kisses Peter, slipping his tongue out to lick Peter’s lip. “If you want.”

Peter kisses him slowly, hands running through Stiles’ hair, waiting until he’s completely relaxed and sweet smelling, before he moves a hand down to his mate’s shoulder. “This okay?”

“Are you going to keep asking?”

“You’ll use your words and tell me if you’re uncomfortable or unhappy? I don’t want to push you,” Peter whispers into his neck.

“I’m not made of glass, you know,” Stiles answers, gripping Peter’s back at a particularly sharp nip on his neck.

“Do you want to take your shirt off?” Peter asks, still chewing on Stiles’ neck, while pushing the bottom of the shirt up.

“Hmm, okay, but no laughing,” Stiles whispers, shrugging out of it, tossing it on the floor next to their bed.

Peter sits back and looks at him, not too long as the boy still squirms when he’s stared at, especially now when he’s so self-conscious. “You’re beautiful.”

“Shut up,” Stiles says, but he’s grinning and the smell of arousal is strong in Peter’s nose. “Oh, you have to move Amilia. Put her in her room. Please?”

“I doubt it’ll traumatize her, she won’t remember this, you know,” Peter sighs, but he moves to get up.

Stiles sits up and watches Peter pick up their baby, gently holding her to his chest. “Hey, any kid of ours is going to need a lot of therapy, so I don’t think we need to add this to everything else.” 

“Okay, she’s asleep again,” Peter says, shucking his sleep pants as he enters the room. He pounces on the bed, gracefully landing astride his partner, pushing his face into Stiles’ neck and snuffling loudly.

Stiles laughs and wiggles, trying to push him off. “God, stop it, that tickles. You’re such a doof, I should tell people about how you are at home, you’d totally lose your reputation as a psycho.”

Peter shrugs against Stiles’ neck and says, “Fortunately, no one would believe you.” He slots his hips between Stiles’ legs and kisses down his chest, licking through the line of hair on his belly. He licks at Stiles’ half-hard cock, smiling as it hardens in his mouth.

“Okay, take it back, nothing but compliments for you,” Stiles says, sighing and leaning back against the pillows. “You do that really well.”

“Not a surprise,” Peter answers, pulling off and nipping Stiles’ thigh. “You practically gave me a written diagram. You want to get me the lube?”

“Fuck, yes.” His hips buck slowly as he fumbles for the drawer in the bedside table, one hand still in Peter’s hair. “Hey, I kind of remember there being a little more of this,” he says, shoving the bottle down the bed.

Peter opens the bottle, spreading some on his fingers and nudging Stiles’ knees further apart with his shoulder. “You were busy and I got lonely.”

“You are talking about you by yourself, right?” Stiles asks, panting slightly.

Peter looks up and rolls his eyes, rubbing his slicked fingers around his mate’s hole. “Of course, idiot boy, who else?”

“Your pillow talk leaves something to be desired.” He grunts and grabs Peter’s hair, voice half a snarl, “Come on, put your damn fingers in me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, it’s been a while,” Peter whispers, continuing to slowly tease, slipping the tip of a slicked finger in, following it with his tongue.

“Damn it, still not made of glass,” Stiles answers, bucking his hips, trying to get more. “It’s not like I actually pushed a baby out of there.”

“I know, love,” Peter says, finally pushing two fingers in, turning and pumping exactly the way his lover likes best. He gets a low moan, and licks Stiles’ cock, chasing the slick head across his stomach, where there’s no scar, the magic pregnancy and delivery leaving no external marks. Peter goes back to sucking his cock, resting his hand on Stiles’ stomach, enjoying the soft curve of his belly. When he reaches up to brush his fingers over Stiles’ nipples, he feels him tense slightly, so rests his hand around Stiles’ throat. It says a lot about them, he thinks, that this is somehow less upsetting.

Stiles pulls Peter’s fingers into his mouth and mutters, “Gonna come, so close…”

Peter concentrates on the spot inside Stiles that makes him pant harder, that makes his hips buck. He sucks him down as far as possible, thankful again that being a werewolf means no gag reflex. He’s ready for his mate’s orgasm when Stiles fists his hair, pulling until it’s almost painful, and biting his fingers until it is painful, moaning out his name.

“Damn, Peter. Somehow I’d forgotten how good that is,” Stiles mumbles, fully relaxed at last. “Do you want to fuck me? You can, as long as you don’t expect a lot of participation.”

Peter carefully pulls out his fingers, wiping his hand on his leg. He then takes his own aching cock in his hand and jerks himself off, watching the strips of white coat Stiles’ from thighs to his neck. “Beautiful,” he whispers and rubs it in with his fingers and then his mouth, bringing some to his mate’s lips. Stiles chuckles and licks the offering from Peter’s mouth, tongue sloppy and eyelids heavy.

“T-shirt’s on the floor,” he says, gesturing vaguely off the bed. 

After carefully cleaning up himself and his mate, Peter brings the shirt to his face and inhales deeply, contented look on his face.

“You’re such a freak,” Stiles says, holding his arms out for the wolf to lie down next to him, face smashed against Stiles’ throat.

“It’s nice,” he murmurs, “smells like you and me and our baby.”

“Come covered, sweaty, sour milk shirt smells like us? That’s really sweet,” Stiles says, kissing his mate’s head.

Peter chuckles and sucks a bruise on Stiles’ shoulder. “Smells like family.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, right now I'm stuck on Peter and Stiles as new parents. The mpreg is in the past, that's done. Stiles breast feeds the baby, but it's not terribly explicit, maybe three sentences worth.
> 
> Let me know if you think more tags are needed. 
> 
> Mostly, this is Stiles is self-conscious about his body and Peter shows him how much he's adored. And I like couples who talk in bed.


End file.
